That Awkward Moment When
by JessiWolf
Summary: You go on a camping trip with a few of your cousins and somehow you get transported to Middle-Earth. Lovely, this is exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend; having my camp ransacked by Elves, smoking with a Hobbit and Dwarves, and being chased by an Orc-pack. Oh yeah, camping was a great idea. NOT.
1. Chapter 1: Roughing It

**Hello everyone! This is just a story for fun, basically something to get my creative juices flowing because I have been suffering from the horror that is writers block. But I had a dream a few days ago where I was in The Hobbit and I just started writing it out, so hopefully it's not that bad. Don't bite my head off if it's horrible, I'm writing this without a Beta.**

**To add a bit of fun to the story, I'm going to be adding lines from other movies, lyrics, and other thingy majigs. If you can spot them, post a comment with the line and what movie, song, etc they are from. **

**I OWN NOTHING! Except my characters Shane, Cheyanne, Edd, and Jessica. Well, I guess my cousins and uncle own themselves but whatever. **

**Chapter One: Roughing It  
**

At five o'clock in the morning it was like any normal Thursday…Well, my version of normal anyhow. Midsummer is, usually, the best time to go camping in Nebraska, and I use the word 'usually' because it is Nebraska and anyone who lives here will tell you the same thing 'if you don't like the weather now, wait until tomorrow'. The current weather prediction was that it was supposed to be clear for the whole week, with temperatures of eighty to ninety degrees and was perfect camping weather.

A few cousins and I had been planning this trip since the winter holidays, because we were sick of being stuck indoors after so many blizzards decided to blow through after a week of fifty degree weather. Yep, you have to love Nebraska. Shane, the oldest member of our group was thirty-six, and had the 'don't screw with me' attitude but was really a huge teddy bear. At eighteen Cheyanne, also known as Chey, was the youngest member, Shane's daughter, and definitely took after her father personality wise. I was twenty-three, and the overall oddball of the family. The three of us were fairly close not just because we were family, but because Shane had introduced me to Archery and his brood of children, three girls, and I would often practice together.

My Uncle Edd, who was Shane's dad and Chey's Grandpa, had land out on the panhandle, roughly three hundred acres, and had offered us a short vacation after hearing us bitch and moan at the family party. After several months of planning, we took our Uncle up on the offer and he quickly laid out the rules of no drugs, cleaning up all our trash, and to keep away from his cattle. As if we wanted to be anywhere near the feedlot. Knowing that we were a group of bow fanatics our uncle allowed us to bring them, and, with a booming laugh, told us a story about rabid coyotes.

The memory brought a smile to my lips as I packed the last of my personal bags into the my Jeep and rearranged my hookah travel bag; after several reassurances and with my Uncle coming with to buy the Shisha to make sure it wasn't drugs, I was allowed to bring it. Pinning my bow and hookah bag securely with the tent, I nodded with satisfaction and closed the vehicle's trunk. Heading back into my apartment once more for a few bottles of water and a snack for the four hour drive, I double checked to make sure the lights were off and left a thank you note to my mom for taking care of Mischief, my ferret, while I would be gone.

Mischief, the little brat, was allowed free reign of the apartment, and had climbed up on the kitchen counter to see what all the hustle and bustle was about. With a goofy smile, I rolled Mischief onto his back and rubbed his tubby light tan belly. "Mommy is going to be gone for a few days," I told him, letting the brat nip at my fingers. "I'll see you on Sunday, be nice to Grandma." With a meaningful finger point at my rambunctious roommate, I left the apartment and began the long drive to my Uncle's ranch.

~oooOOOOOooo~

"Am I your fire, your one desire?" Belting out the lyrics of Backstreet Boys 'I Want It That Way', I dramatically brought my hand to my heart. "Yes I know it's too late, but I want it that way!"

Just as the chorus was about to play a truck passed me along the dirt road; my windows were down, the boy band music blaring, and the speed limit was slow enough for the driver, an older man, to get an earful. With an alarmed look, the man sped up and quickly disappeared in a cloud of dirt.

"Awkward…" I declared to no one, shifting my eyes around as if to say 'wasn't me' before bursting with laughter.

I had been driving for a little over two hours now and thank the gods for my iPod, if it weren't for the music I'd have probably started talking to myself or some inanimate object. Not that that hadn't happened already because my damn water bottle wouldn't open, so I started to yell at it.

Driving by myself had probably been a bad idea but Shane, although he did offer to drive, didn't have any room left in his truck or trailer because he had loaded two of his four-wheelers and my mothers' for myself. Overall though, I am glad that I had decided to drive myself because not only is there more room but I got to spend time alone before being tossed back in with people. I loved my family and friends, but I got my fair share of social interaction at my jobs and therefore didn't like to spend a lot of time around people. Thankfully Shane and Chey were pretty much the same, what I was worried about was if they fought. Yeah, being in the middle of a family squabble did not sound appealing.

Not being one to let serious thoughts ruin a perfectly good, and long awaited, vacation, I once more blared my music and started to sing. "You look better when I'm drunk, oh, oh!"

~oooOOOooo~

Four hours into the drive, I got a call from my Uncle telling me the dirt road to turn onto that would lead me to his house. Shane and Cheyanne had already arrived and were offloading the four-wheelers, I had spoken to Shane for a few minutes on the phone to let him know that I was still twenty minutes out and would need a bathroom break the moment I stepped out of the Jeep.

Luckily it didn't take twenty minutes to get to Edd's, and like I told Shane the first thing I did was scream 'bathroom' before taking off into the small farm house. Their laughter followed me as I frantically searched for the toilet and, sighing dramatically and contemplating bowing before the porcelain throne, I found the restroom. Life was good again.

Emerging from the house with a hop to my step, I loudly exclaim, "Let's get the party started!"

Shaking her head, long curly dirty blonde hair tied back with a thick ponytail that swayed across her back, my cousin popped the Jeep's trunk and took out the tent. "Jeez Jess, there is just one tent in here, right?" The bag was bulging, the zipper closing only halfway.

I shrugged, grabbing my two hip-quivers and attaching them to my belt. "My brothers were the last ones to use it," slinging the cloth bow case over my shoulder, I reached in to grab my hookah bag. "I didn't have the time, or room, to get it out and fix everything."

Chey shrugged, grabbing the gym bag that held my clothes. "Dad has been talking about really 'roughing' it; he already took my S'mores supplies." Closing the trunk with a loud thump, she nodded her head to where her dad was offloading my four-wheeler, the shiny black standing out obnoxiously next to their camouflage colored vehicles.

"Keep him away from my gym bag; I have Oreos and Nutella in there." I winked slyly at her as we neared the vehicles.

Shane had just slammed shut the trailers tailgate and watched us from over his shoulder. "About time you showed up," he teased, shaking his head in mock annoyance. "Has Chey told you that we're not taking any outside food to the campsite?"

"Yeah, yeah, something about you taking away the amazingness that is S'mores." Pointing my finger accusingly at him, I declared loudly, "you sir, are evil. EVIL!"

Rolling his eyes, Shane brushed his hands off on a pair of ripped up and stained jeans. "It'll be fun, Dad said there is plenty of rabbit around and we have plenty of jerky." Fingering the tips of his arrows, which rested in one of his hip quivers, he grunted in disappointment, "too bad it's not hunting season."

"Yeah," Chey replied sarcastically, setting my bags on the back of the black four-wheeler. "Because we really want to waste one of our permits on a deer that'll probably go bad by the time we got back home."

"Shut up, boy." Shane said affectionately punching his daughter's shoulder, therefore starting a play fight between the two of them.

Laughing at my cousins, I began to properly attach everything to the back of my four-wheeler. Shane, having three girls, made a huge effort to make them as Tom Boy-ish as possible and would often call them 'boy' because, well, he had only girls. With a grunt, Shane had successfully pinned Chey and was now sitting on top of her; the, unfortunately, familiar sound of him farting was soon followed by Chey screaming for air. And here I thought I was the family oddball.

Giggling at their antics, I swung my leg over the four-wheelers seat and watched Cheyanne hit her father hard in the ribs, squirming out from under him as he fell forward gripping his side and laughing. "You guys are weird."

Shane had managed to calm down enough to sharply retort, "Says the girl who brought her hookah."

Sniffing in mock disdain, I came back with, "at least I'm not bald." Starting my four-wheeler I drove up beside Chey's; her four-wheeler was slightly bigger than my own, the rumble louder, but hers was a 4x4 and mine wasn't. "Ready to go?"

Nodding quickly, she looked over her shoulder to Shane, who just realized that we were about to leave him behind. "Catch up if you can!"

With a whoop, we gunned our four-wheelers, the tires throwing dirt and grass at the frantic male figure behind us.

The girls won the race to the designated camp site, though Shane had put up a real fight in catching up, passing us several times by using short cuts. Damn him for knowing his own home better than we did. But ultimately we won, which meant that we had our choice in either setting up camp or hunting rabbit, gutting said rabbit, and cooking it. Setting up camp it was.

"Jess," Chey had pulled out two small plastic shapes from the tent bag. "Your brothers are stupid. They didn't pack the big tent in here, they packed two small ones."

Looking up at her from the fire pit I had just finished building, I arched a brow and made my way over to my annoyed looking cousin, "okay…do we have all the poles for them?"

Bending down once more, she began to pull out the poles and stakes. "Yeah, we have everything."

"Then who cares if it's two small tents instead of one big one?" Rolling my eyes, I took one of the plastic squares and began to unroll it, "this means that we can have one of them and your dad can have the other, and it'll make hiding the snacks easier."

"Yeah, I guess," she mumbled, setting up the other tent a few feet from the other. "But your brothers are still stupid; they have a random tent lying around their room instead of where it should be. No wonder the bag wouldn't close."

"Umm..." Looking over the half set up tent with a bemused expression, "wouldn't that mean that the bag would have more room, because it's two smaller tents instead of the bigger one plus the smaller one?"

Pausing in her work, Chey met my own confused look with one of her own. "I didn't look through the whole thing, just the main part. What do you think's in there?"

Brushing my hands off on my camouflage overalls, I stepped around the now erect tent and to the bag. Unzipping a bulging side compartment, my eyes widened and I began to laugh hysterically.

"What?" Cheyanne asked, rushing to my side and breaking out into laughter as well when she caught sight of what was in the bag. "Are...you kidding...me?" Her hazel eyes filled with tears of mirth.

Pulling out the full bottle of Parrot Bay Rum from the protective cloth wrapping, I shook it accusingly, "I have been looking for you for a damn year! Those sneaky little thieves!"

"Oh my god! I still remember the look on your face when you realized your Rum was missing, ha!" Shaking her head, Cheyanne nudged my shoulder good-naturedly, "you're sharing that, right?"

But I didn't answer her; I was too focused on curling my body possessively around the sorely missed bottle of Passion Fruit Rum, stroking the length of the glass bottle as if it were a baby. The bottle had gone missing a while back and I had asked all my friends if they had taken it, or if they knew anything. Sure it may have just been a bottle of Rum, but I had bought it the same night I had adopted Mischief, as a celebratory drink because I wasn't alone in my apartment anymore. Perhaps it was silly to have been so upset that it had gone missing, but no one should ever touch my precious Rum. Ever.

"You're weird," Chey said, drawing my attention away from the bottle of alcohol. "You better pick a tent and hide that in there, never know when Dad might come back."

Nodding in agreement, I searched for any sign of Shane before dashing towards the tent I had set up. Placing the bottle in one corner, I once more left to gather the remainder of my bags and set them up on one side as Cheyanne set up on the other. She had brought along a thick sleeping bag, something that would, in my opinion, suck, because even though it did cool down a bit during the night it would still be really damn hot. Along with her green sleeping bag, Cheyanne had brought along a large squishy blue pillow; the type of pillow with the small beads in it kind of like a bean bag, I have no idea what it's called…Bean Pillow? Whatever.

"You plan on sleeping in that?" I nodded my head toward what I considered to be a sweat dripping nightmare.

"I thought we'd be able to go back to the house and shower," she answered defensively. "Are you going to sleep on that?" She gestured toward my single large blanket, with a large wolf head stamped on it, and the small cotton pillow.

"Heck yeah," I replied, smirking at her as I folded the blanket once length wise and snuggled inside. Though, when I laid my head on the pillow…"I think you had the better idea, bringing that bean pillow."

She shrugged, laying on top of her blankets and staring up at the top of the tent. "I don't think we were prepared for this," she gestured with her hand in a broad sweeping motion, and I noticed that her usually well groomed fingernails had become chipped.

Humming in response, I rolled over to peak out from the tents entrance. "At least it's not that late yet, it's only…" Reaching around for my phone, when I remembered I had left in the Jeep, along with my iPod, because there was no reception. "Damn, what time is it?"

"I don't know, Dad made me leave my phone in the truck." Peering out at the risen sun, Cheyanne was silent for a moment before answering, "I'd say it's around…Ten, maybe eleven."

Taking her word on the time, I once more looked around the camp before unzipping my clothing bag and opening the Oreo package. "Here," I offered her two of the cookies, "a nutritious breakfast brought to you by the letter 'O'."

She snorted, twisting off the top of her first cookie and licking the creamy center, a look a pure bliss passing her face. Following her example, I too began to nibble on my sugary breakfast while keeping an eye out for Shane.

Several hours pasted and Shane had not yet come back, neither Cheyanne nor I were worried about him though because of the walkie-talkie's that Shane had given each of us during our trip. Seriously, the man had taken so many survival courses and he wasn't new to the hunting game; the only thing he had to worry about was getting a sunburn on his bald dome. We killed the time by changing into our swimsuits and tanning; Shane had laughed when we told him we had packed them, but now it appeared we had the right idea. The sun was high in the sky and the temperature had risen considerably, if we had remained clothed in our overalls we'd have been baking, at least now we were baking in a considerably preferable manner.

"God I'm going to be burned," Cheyanne mumbled, tilting her head to look at me.

Chuckling, I looked over at my considerably paler cousin. "Yeah, sucks to be you." Rolling onto my stomach, I untied the back of my suit so I wouldn't get tan lines.

My cousin and I are both a fourth Native American and tanned easily, but she had not been outside a lot because of her new job which had her working through the day. Though I have two jobs, the hours and days off were spaced out enough that I had a decent amount of free time, mostly spent working out and relaxing at home. This was Cheyanne's first job though, and she worked long hours, so it was understandable that she would rather go home and sleep than go out. In fact, she had to request the vacation time for this trip a whole month in advance. It was a bit ridiculous but she loved her job, and I guess that is all that matters.

She yawned, rolling onto her stomach as well. "Wake me up in ten minutes," she said, adjusting her own top so she wouldn't get tan lines.

Humming in response, I listened as her breathing slowed and evened out. It was very tempting to join her in a nap, but the idea of waking up to a burnt back and bum kept me awake…for a while.

Thankfully, as I was beginning to nod off to sleep, Shane appeared with single bloodied rabbit. "What are you two boys doin?" He asked, raising his voice enough to startle Chey awake. Flicking his blood glossed fingers at us as we fixed out bikinis and joined him at the camp fire.

"Ugh, Dad that is gross," Cheyanne complained, wiping a dot of rabbit blood of her abdomen.

"No," he replied condescendingly, "what is gross is coming back here and finding the two of you in strings, don't you have anything decent to wear, like a one piece?"

Sharing a look, we rolled our eyes at the suddenly protective man and, gathering the towels we had been lying on, began walking over to the water spigot on the opposite side of the hill the camp was on. "We'll be back in a bit," we called back to him, following the dirt path to the source of water.

"It took Shane long enough to catch one damn rabbit," I said to her, rushing toward the spigot and the promise of cool water.

"Yeah," she replied, following closely and wiping the remaining flecks of rabbit blood. "He was probably farting around, took a nap or something."

We continued the short walk in silence; though Chey was preoccupied with a spot of red on her suit, I took a moment to study the landscape. Nebraska has a simplistic beauty, with its rolling hills and coloring, but what I did not expect to see was a set of mountains in the distance. Furrowing my brow, I paused long enough for Chey to bump into me with a grunt of surprise.

"What?" She inquired, stepping around and to the water spigot, turning it on and letting out a contented sigh.

Not taking my eyes from the mountains, I joined her in the quick wash down, the cold water making goose bumps raise wherever it touched. "Do you see the mountains, over there?"

"Mountains?" Squinting in the light, Cheyanne nodded, "yeah, what about them?"

"Well, I don't think we're close enough to Colorado to be seeing Mountains. We're not close enough to anywhere in general."

Sighing, she finished drying off and slung her damp towel across her shoulders. "Who cares? Come on; let's go see if Dad needs some help."

Lips tugging into a line of disapproval, I took one last look at the distant peaks before splashing my face with water and, turning off the facet, followed my cousin back to camp.

Coming back to camp, well, it was interesting. Shane's things had been moved into his tent, we could see the bulky outline of his pack, but he was not in his tent, nor was he gutting the rabbit. Oh no, instead we found one of his legs sticking out from our tent, the familiar crinkle of plastic and groans of pain filling the air.

Sharing an alarmed look with my cousin, we dropped our towels on one of the popup chairs and peered inside the enclosure to see a grimacing thirty-six year old man, shirt dusted with Oreo crumbs, and face contorted into a grimace. "I thought," he groaned, rubbing his stomach, "that I told you we were roughing it."

"You know what's sad, Chey?"

Turning to me with a questioning tilt to her head, hazel eyes sparkling with amusement, and a grin that spread from ear to ear, she giggled. "What?"

"The fact that none of us could go a day without comfort food," I sputtered, laughing as Shane continued to groan.

Heaving the large man out of the tent, we had him lean back against one of the four-wheelers. "I need a toilet," he declared, holding onto his stomach.

We would have continued to laugh at him, if it weren't for the fact that he decided to follow up his statement by farting. Looking at each other with mirrored expressions of disgust, we helped him onto the vehicle with Cheyanne jumping onto the front of it to drive because Shane looked like he'd rather roll over and die.

"Be back when he's done being himself." Cheyanne gave a jaunty wave before turning on the four-wheeler and heading back to the farm house.

Shaking my head, I watched them disappear in a cloud of dust before heading back to the tent to tidy up after Shane's visit. Thankfully there was still a row of Oreos left in the plastic box and he hadn't found the Nutella and Rum, otherwise we'd have been screwed. Stuffing all three of the goodies into my gym bag, I grabbed the pair of camouflage overalls that I had worn earlier and pulled them on over my bikini.

Searching for the rabbit, I began to clean it and prepare it for dinner, dicing up the meat and dropping it into water filled pot that Shane he brought along. Once that was done, I washed the blood from my hands and set up my hookah, content to sit and smoke while waiting for my family to return.


	2. Chapter 2: Say Wha?

**Wow, I actually have reviews the first day I posted! Ya'll are awesome, I would offer you candy but...Well, anyway, thank you for reviewing and, you know, you're awesome! Thank you too my other readers as well. I'm going to try to steer away from a Mary-Sue and if she seems Sue-ish at times, I apologize. For the most part I will be sticking to the movie though I do have my copy of The Hobbit handy for added scenes and details. I wonder, for those of you who have read the books, which was your favorite? I would have to say The Hobbit because it was so much easier to read than Lord of the Rings, but I do have a soft spot for the Return of the King; the scene where Sauron is destroyed but his shadow spreads across the sky, was amazing! Okay, I'm done talking for now.**

**I own nothing except my characters Jessica, Cheyanne, Shane, and Aranel, bow, clothes, etc etc.**

**Reminder: Just for fun, I have inserted lines from other movies, songs, and books (some obvious, some not so), if you see these leave a comment with the line and where it is from. **

**Chapter Two: Say Wha'?**

"What do you mean you're staying there?" Letting go of the send button, I glared at the little walkie-talkie. My cousins were abandoning me to stay at the farm house, because Shane had pigged out on my hidden batch of Oreos and got a severe case of diarrhea. That's what you get, jerk.

"When you're finished talking you're supposed to say over, over."

Narrowing my already narrowed eyes, I contemplated throwing the little device. "Bite me, over."

"Sorry you're too far away, over."

Damn you Chey, damn you. "Fine, I'll handle things back here but your dad owes me." Screw you and your 'over'; tossing the walkie-talkie into the cup holder of the foldup chair, I took a long draw off of my hookah. Yum, Wild Mango flavor.

There was no reply from Cheyanne, so I figured she had finished talking and was probably taking a shower. Damn her again. Yawning, I reached toward the pot of rabbit stew that had finished cooking about an hour ago. It was still warm and I had finished my serving a while ago, now I didn't know what to do with it. Pursing my lips, I reached into my hookah bag and pulled out my foil to wrap around the top of it, hopefully the stew would keep until breakfast the next day.

Looking up at the clear night sky, the stars bright and the sliver of moon just beginning to appear; I sighed, this was not how I wanted to spend my vacation. Taking the last puff of my hookah, I quickly took off the coals and let the bowl cool before taking it off and cleaning it, tossing the used foil and shisha into the bucket we had brought along for trash. Well, at least I had one more night where I could enjoy not having to hear Shane snore.

Taking apart my hookah, I put it away in its bag and dropped it off in my tent before returning to the fire to put a few more logs on it. Hopefully that would keep it going until tomorrow, or at least leave enough embers to start a new one. Stretching after having sat for such a long time felt like heaven, and now that I was moving I decided to clean up the rest of the camp and make sure no animals could get into the food.

With the chores taken care of, I crawled into the girls' tent and zipped the mosquito flap shut but left the rest open so I could continue to look out at the sky. The clear, quiet night was something that I missed once I had moved out and into the city; nothing beat stargazing or the solitude the country could bring. Sighing in contentment, I lied down on Cheyanne's sleeping bag and pulled my own blanket over top of me, snuggling into its comforting smell of home.

Of course the peaceful night had to be interrupted by the sound of something howling in the distance, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise as I remembered my Uncle's story about rabid coyotes.

"Thanks Edd," I snorted, snuggling further into my blanket in an attempt to feel safe within the flimsy confines of the tent. For some reason I began to sing as to ward off the hebejebes, "Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase…"

The walkie-talkie crackled and Shane's deep baritone called out from it, "Jessica, are you there?"

What happened to 'over'? Unzipping the tent, and quickly darting to the chair where I had left the device, I pressed the little button, "hey Shane, feeling better?" Though I had meant for the question to sound teasing, a small quaver in my voice gave away that I was uncomfortable being alone at the camp site after hearing the coyote howling.

"Har har," he replied sarcastically but his tone quickly sobered, "we heard a coyote howl from here, thought I'd check up on you."

I sighed, running my free hand through thick locks of dark hair a habit I had picked up since letting my hair grow long. "Heard it too. I'm fine though, the camp is all packed up and I have the food covered."

There was a long pause on my end of the walkie-talkie and I knew that Shane was about to go into his don't-bullshit-me attitude. "Jess…"

"Yes?" I inquired in mock sweetness, though I was touched that Shane was still looking out for me, his family had helped me through a real rough patch, I did not feel that it was necessary to take up his old way of treating me.

"I know that you've been doing a lot better this last year, thank god for that, but your mother told me to keep an eye on you and we don't need you to relapse into _that _again."

"I don't want to be like _that _again, Shane…" I paused, remembering how hard I had fought to regain a sense of self that took up most of the last year and a half. "I'll be okay."

"If you're su-"

Sending the alarm through the walkie-talkie that allowed you call someone, or in some instances find it, I cut him off.

"Okay, okay. Fuck Jess, I'm just making sure you're okay."

Rolling my eyes and smiling fondly down at the walkie-talkie, I replied with a snarky, "thanks dad."

Though I could not hear my cousin's laughter, the change of tone was enough to indicate that he had been. "You're lucky I'm not your father, I'd have beaten you shitless."

Clicking my tongue reproachfully over the device I playfully chided him, "language mister."

His only response was to loose a long string of curses that would have made a sailor blush; holy Hel did construction workers have a mouth on them.

"Goodnight Shane," I once more interrupted him, turning off the walkie-talkie before he could reply. Giggling at this insignificant action, I folded up the three chairs and packed them into Shane's tent. He could deal with them tomorrow.

When the moon had risen a fair height I decided to change into my pajamas, a pair of grey yoga pants with the Nebraska 'Huskers' logo printed in white along the side, along with my Loki 'I do what I want' shirt. I was one classy dame. Zipping the remainder of the tent shut, I let the sound of crickets and cicadas lull me into sleep.

~oooOOOooo~

The sound of something snorting is what woke me and, through the fogginess of sleep, I chalked it up to being a horse since I had had horses when I lived with my mom and the snort sounded just like one of them. Why a horse was loose on my Uncle's land didn't register in my half-asleep state until the gentle tapping of feet sounded from outside of my tent.

Sitting up in alarm, I grabbed my bow and notched an arrow, the soft click of my ever present Release barely audible as I listened to what was outside. When there was silence for a solid minute, I worked up my courage to open the tent flap but a knife beat me to it. The curved blade ripped through the fabric like butter, creating a hole big enough for a small man.

Wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue, I pulled back on my bow. "Whoever is out there, I am armed…Oh, and you're trespassing." Subduing the urge of face-palm as I added the last comment, I listened for a response.

A male's voice called out in a foreign, lyrical language, but whatever he said was not directed to me because another voice answered in the same language. There was a pause, the sound of feet backing away from the tent. "Whomever is in there, know that you are surrounded by archers that will fire upon my command. Come out slowly, without your weapon."

Harrumphing in disbelief, I remained within the tent for several moments; heart pounding like a staccato drum set, a drop of sweat rolled down between my shoulder blades. If the man was telling the truth then I was dead meat but if he wasn't then I was leaving myself defenseless, at his mercy. "How do I know you won't hurt me when I come out?"

Again there was silence; I was getting sick of it. "Calm girl, if it makes you feel more comfortable then you may come out with your weapon but if you make a wrong move you will be shot down."

Blinking in surprise, I let the bow string loosen. If this man felt secure enough to let me leave the tent with my bow, that meant he wasn't lying about having others around. Well shit, either way I'm screwed. Sighing, I quickly attached the belt with my two hip quivers and exited the tent where the knife had torn through it. Kneeling was not something I felt comfortable doing but the tear was not large enough to where I could simply walk through it; grunting in annoyance I looked around the clearing, quickly noticing that a single man was in view.

Though the sky had lightened to the pale blue of predawn, there was enough light to see that the man was fairly tall, with light skin that seemed to give off a faint pearly glow, and dark hair that lay over his shoulders. If it weren't for the fact that this guy was scaring the poo out of me I'd have said he was handsome, but here we were. "What do you want?"

His brows rose, chin jutting out proudly, "the more appropriate question would be, why are you here?"

"I am camping here with my cousins, on my Uncle's land by the way Mr. Trespasser," glaring heatedly at the man with a sudden sense of bravado, I continued on. "I have a right to be here, whereas you do not. So, I am the one that will be asking the questions."

"Oh," he replied, thin lips quirking into a grin, "but you are at a disadvantage." With a wave of his hand, more men showed themselves with their bows at the ready. Well shit. "Now I repeat, why are you here and do not answer with that drivel of camping with your cousins."

"Bu-wha?" Sputtering, I wondered if the man had already torn into the other tent and had seen that it was empty. Of course, the fact that no one had come out of the tent to help me was another give away…"I am camping with my cousins," I huffed, gripping my bow tighter.

The man hummed, tilting his head before covering the distance between us in a few graceful steps that I'd have missed if I had blinked. Stumbling back, I fell back into the tent and onto my butt. He laughed, a sound the echoed through the rest of his men and thoroughly humiliating me. Making a show of having no weapons he offered out his hand in an offer to help me up, but, attempting to keep some pride intact and out of fear of the man, I brushed it aside and once more got to my feet.

Adopting that same smirk, he called out to his men in that annoyingly musical language before disarming me. Ignoring my protests he patted me down in the search for more weapons, pulling off my quivers with dexterous fingers and tying my hands tightly in front of me. "No one," he whispered harshly into my ear, "travels through the Valley without our knowledge."

Straightening he pulled on my bound hands, leading me into the center of my camp which was now being ransacked. One of his companions had entered my tent and was roughly tossing out my bags. "Hey, you asshat, be careful with my stuff!" My hookah was brand new and if he broke it there would be hell to pay.

My captor tugged on my wrists again, drawing my attention back to his stern face. It was then that I realized that he had pointed ears; what a freak. Scrunching my nose up and eyes widening at the sight of such an oddity, I pointed and stated stupidly, "your ears are pointed."

The gathering of men laughed, the ones within view flicked their hair to the side to display their pointed ears. Well hell, I have been kidnapped by a Pointy Eared Cult. Shocked into silence, I watched as they tore the camp apart; placing my cousins' bows and knives at the feet of my captor and all the while speaking in their weird language.

"It seems you were not lying about others being with you," he commented, using his foot to search through the small pile of weapons that had gathered at his feet. "But this is a measly supply of weapons; you would not have lasted long with an Orc-pack in the Valley."

"Say wha'?" Shaking my head free of all thought, not that there was much aside from the phrase "stupid elf cult" and, now, "Orc-pack", that clanked around in my head. I peered up at the man as if he were high, "Orc-pack you say? Interesting…If only those were real, then this would make a whole lot more sense. Not." Damn, I had been kidnapped by not just an Elf Cult but a Lord of the Rings Die Hard Fan Cult. Karma had finally caught up with me.

One of the men, some strong jawed blonde dude, whistled; scrunching up my nose in annoyance, I rubbed my ear on my shoulder to get rid of the ringing. Not two seconds later, horses trotted into camp and began to nuzzle their riders. My captors' horse plodded up to his side, with a softer expression he patted its neck gently, and cooed to it in what I assume was praise.

"Okay, cool, now that you have searched my camp can I go back to being normal?" I would have crossed my arms, but…

"No," the leader said, peering haughtily down at me from his easily 6'3" towering bulk. "You will come with us."

Without so much as an explanation he tossed me onto the back of the horse, tying my hands securely to the horn of the saddle. One of his men brought over my bags, having stuffed my blanket into the, originally, tent pack. "Whoa, whoa, hold on a second. If I have to come with you, can't I at least pack my things properly? I have some delicate stuff that I don't need you jerks to break."

Arching an amused brow, he untied my hands for the saddle horn and let me down from the horse. "If you try to run, we will shoot you."

Keeping that threat in mind, I quickly packed my belongings, though deciding to leave the tents and many other things behind, and looked to him expectantly. "My bow and quivers go in this," I said, holding up the cloth bow carrier. Instead of letting me handle my belongings he put them away himself, but he had trouble with the zipper. Mimicking his earlier move of lifting his head superiorly, I zipped the bag shut. If he was startled by the sound he did not show it, merely tossing the strap over his shoulder and pointing from me to the horse.

What a lovely start to a new day.

~oooOOOooo~

None of the men spoke to me once we had started moving, and I had nothing to say aside from the whole "take me back" and "you'll be sorry" spiel. Truth be told, I was too afraid to say anything; the once familiar Nebraska landscape had changed into, quite literally, a valley with boulders littering it, mountains rising on one side, and a forest guarding another. This was not home and it scared the crap out of me. How the hell does an entire landscape change overnight anyway?

Before we had left my campsite I had a moment to take one last look around, I wish I hadn't. Though the area still looked the same, it wasn't at the same time, and, as if that weren't enough, the remaining two four-wheelers were missing. There were no tire tracks, no imprints of where they had rested; it was as if they had never existed. Though it may have seemed silly to someone else, the loss of the four-wheelers came as a blow to the gut because it felt like I had been abandoned by something, by what I'm not sure but it left behind a desolate feeling. An unwantedly familiar feeling, something that would have triggered a regression into a weaker version of myself but, thankfully, that did not happen.

As we neared the mountains one of the men mimicked a bird call, which was answered with another. Slowing the horses to a walk, they formed a single file line and rounded a corner, taking a path through the mountains that was no wider than a yard or two. While following the trail I noticed that my captors sat straighter on their horses, once wrinkled brows smoothing over.

Tilting my head curiously, I looked up the sides of the trail and saw a figure outlined by the sun, but it disappeared as soon as I had caught sight of it. Gods, it felt like I was in some weird fantasy-mystery movie with random people popping in out of nowhere and things appearing then disappearing. Did someone slip drugs into my shisha or have I gone insane? Cheyanne would have answered that with snarky comment of, 'you've always been insane', but neither she nor her father were here. Again another blow to the gut, a sense of abandonment.

What had happened, where was I, and who the hell were these people? Still, I kept my mouth closed and waited with growing impatience, coupled with fear, for someone to tell me what the hell was going on.

Perhaps he had sense my growing displeasure because my captor chuckled, "interesting, though you are obviously aggravated you have not so much as uttered a peep since this morning."

Not knowing how to answer this I remained silent, though the stiffening of my muscles must have given away how bad I really wanted to elbow him in the gut.

Clicking his tongue, I could all but feel the condescending smile spread across his face. "Ignoring your savior? How rude."

Savior?! That was it; I had had enough of his I'm-better-than-thou bullshit. However, just as I opened my mouth to deliver a biting retort, several of the men at the front of the line began to call out happily. Again I did not understand anything of what they said, until my captor whispered, "Imladris," his voice was filled with adoration.

Eye's widening, I blinked owlishly up at him. "Say wha'? Please tell me you did not just say 'Imladris'." Before he had the chance to answer, or even sneer at me, I leaned forward in the saddle in order to see over the tops of the rest of the company's heads; what greeted my eyes was both beautiful and horrible. Beautiful because within a small hollow of the mountains, among dozens of waterfalls, and gardens, was nestled none other than Rivendell. Horrible because it was Rivendell and I had not been kidnapped by a Middle-Earth Cult but real Elves. I had never feinted before in my life, but as the horses drew closer to the palace-like building I did just that, my last thought being 'will I ever see home again?' and how very cliché it was to think that.

~oooOOOooo~

Waking up to having a severe looking Elf hovering above your head is not something anyone in their right minds would have wanted, and I got just that. Squeaking a protest, I leaned away from him and abruptly slid off the horse, landing on the stone ground with my shoulder. "Ouch! Son of a Frost Giant!"

Dark eyes glittering with mirth the Elf laughed at my prone form, but quickly sobered as he caught sight of something in the distance. Sliding from his horse with a scowl, he yanked me to my feet, "get your things."

Scowling at him, I held out my bound hands. "Yeah, and how am I supposed to do that?"

Paying little attention to me, he untied the rope and once more turned to look off at something. Rolling my eyes, I rubbed my shoulder for a moment before deciding that, aside from bruising, it was fine; quickly dislodging my packs from the horse, I gently patted its neck in thanks for not stepping on me when I had fallen. When I went to grab my bow however, the Elf snapped at me and slung it over his own shoulder. Harrumphing, I picked up the rest of my belongings and looked expectantly at my captor. Gods it was annoying that I had to keep referring to him as 'that one guy', 'the Elf', and 'my captor'; from what Tolkien had wrote in his books, for the most part, Elves were fairly happy, and polite, people. Of course I'd get stuck with Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud.

"It would seem," he said, eyes flickering to me momentarily before striding off, "that we have more company."

Arching a brow as if to say 'cool story bro', I all but jogged after him as he led me past a stable, through a corridor, up some stairs, down another corridor, up even more stairs, and into an open patio of sorts. Though I was in fairly good shape, I was still huffing by the time he stopped, "stay here while I find Lord Elrond."

It was more the mention of a certain name than his command that kept me where I was, frozen to the spot. Wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue nervously, I looked around the courtyard, taking in the beautifully carved archways and elaborately decorated tapestries. Though I had read Tolkien's books as a child, before my parents' divorce, and had seen the movies several times with my friends; my own imagination, as well as Peter Jacksons', could not hold a candle to the majesty of this single room.

Not for the first time today I wished that Shane and Cheyanne were here, though they may not have known what to do I would at least not have been alone. If there was ever a time where I wished something was all a drug induced dream, this was it. Shifting my weight awkwardly I watched as an older man clad in grey, obviously Gandalf, and another ma-Elf, I corrected myself, walked up a short flight of stairs and onto the terrace. My captor stood a little behind both of them, head held high as he gestured toward me and handed over my bow case to, who I assumed to be, Lord Elrond.

Again the urge to feint, or possibly run away screaming, took hold; shaking as they approached, I suppressed the impulse to do anything other than stare at them open mouthed.

"Calm," the Elven Lord said, a kind smile lighting his face. "I am Lord Elrond, and this is Imladris or Rivendell in Common."

English was Common? Ridiculous! But I guess since Tolkien was the creator of Middle-Earth, it did make some sense. "Um…Hi…"

Gandalf chuckled, the sound low and gravely. "Aranel," he motioned to my captor, "was just informing us of your arrival. Impeccable timing, all things considering…"

Looking up at the wizard in bewilderment, I said the first thing that popped to mind. "So that is his name!"

The two men laughed, though Aranel looked pointedly away. "Indeed," Gandalf's grey eyes flickered to the Elven Warrior before once more meeting my own honeyed brown. "I am Gandalf the Grey, and you are?"

"Oh! Umm…Jessica…." Color rose in my cheeks in a surprising, to me anyway, show of bashfulness. By the Gods, Shane would be laughing his ass of right now if he saw me blush.

"Saesa omentien lle," Lord Elrond replied the same kind smile spread across his face. "It is a pleasure meeting you…Though the nature of your arrival is less than pleasurable. I am the head of this house, Lord Elrond."

Thinking that I had somehow offended the Elf, my face continued to heat and I did not look up from the ground, a show of meekness rather than respect. "Well, being here coming here wasn't exactly my idea," I mumbled contritely, looking up long enough to glare at Aranel.

"Yes, I am aware of the situation."

No he wasn't, not really anyhow. "Whatever he has told you isn't true."

"Then you were not in fact, traveling through our valley?" Lord Elrond inquired, for all appearances he seemed to be genuinely curious though he did share a look with Aranel.

"What? I wasn't traveling through any valley," I exclaimed, looking pleading, and a little annoyed, into Elrond's grey-blue eyes. "I was camping with my cousins but they went back to the house because Shane was stupid and ate my sweets, giving himself a bellyache, and leaving me alone with the tents." Realizing I was blabbering but unable to stop as a whole morning of pent up annoyance began to spill out, "when I went to bed everything was normal, I was home! Well, not actually home because it was my Uncle's land but that's not important. I was home and then Mr. Pain-In-My-Butt came barging into my camp site, tore it apart, and told me to get on a horse!"

The two men looked at me with startled expressions, but Aranel merely looked amused; mumbling something to Lord Elrond, he quickly departed and I glared a hole into his back until he was out of sight.

"An interesting tale," Gandalf mumbled, brows raising clear into his hairline. "Then how did you come to be in the Valley?"

"Indeed," Lord Elrond agreed, his own expression mirroring the wizards. "And you have such strange weapons…" Unzipping the bow case to reveal my compound Diamond Razor bow, he weighed it in his hands as if considering something. "Where are you from, Jessica?"

Oh but that was one of the cruxes of the problem, because I was from Nebraska but currently in Middle-Earth, how could I tell them that? Shaking my head in exasperation, "Not from around here…" I had not cried for a long time, not since that horrible month three years ago, but the familiar sting of building tears began to blur my vision. "My home is…far away…"

"I see," Lord Elrond did not press the matter of where I was from, seeing as how it had affected me. "Then could you us how to came to be in the Valley?"

Gods I was pathetic; taking a deep breath I met their eyes once more. "I don't know, magic?"

That had been the wrong answer because as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw Gandalf's hand twitch towards his robes, grey eyes flickering with something akin to suspicion though it quickly faded. Clearing his throat, the wizard indicated with his head that he wanted to speak with Elrond alone. "If you will excuse us," he gestured to a small gathering of smaller men behind him, "you may stay here and spend time with the Dwarves, but you will not mention your 'magical' appearance to them. Lord Elrond and I have matters to discuss."

Startled that I was let off with such few questions, I nodded quickly and looked to the somewhat large gathering of men. As I turned to thank Gandalf and Elrond however, they had already walked off. Shrugging, I strode over to the Dwarves all the while thinking that Peter Jackson had been spot on in his choice of actors so far, though there were minor differences in the Elves such as a significant resemblance to felines, the Elves ears were a little more prominent and their eye brows were artfully angled. Perhaps the Dwarves would be the same way.

With a timid smile I approached them, saying a cheerful greeting of, "Hello there!" Dang there were a lot of them, too many for the Lord of the Rings books from what I could I remember.

Each of them looked at me with their own looks of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity. There was a shorter member towards the center standing out because of his lack of a beard, wavy auburn hair framed his face and his blue eyes shone curiously as they met mine. Tilting my head to the side, I gave them all what I considered to be an I'm-no-threat smile.

"Who's she?" Asked one of the Dwarves, his hair was a mousy brown color with a single braided lock of beard that hung from his chin. I had the distinct impression that he was very young.

"Why is she wearing that?" Another called from the back, this one with silvery-white hair with intricate braiding done to his beard and hair.

Unable to control the nerd inside of me, I placed my hands on my hips and loudly declared, "I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose." Oh damn. See, this is a perfect example of why I was the family oddball; my nerves would often get the better of me and would I spew lines from movies, books, or music in an attempt to break the tension. Not that they would understand whatever the hell it was I was talking about.

The statement seemed to only confuse them more, though two of the younger looking Dwarves, one with long blonde hair and mustache tassels and the other with long chestnut locks, smirked at me.

One of the more seasoned looking of the group approached me, his hair was black and threaded with silver at the temples, twin braids falling in front of his ears. "I am Thorin Oakenshield, are you a friend of the Elves?" Thorin stood regally and his tone indicated that he was used to people listening to him, but dripped with dislike as he said the word 'Elves'.

Blinking owlishly at the handsome Dwarf, I realized that my earlier assumption of there being too many Dwarves for Lord of the Rings was correct; I had somehow wound up in Middle-Earth sixty odd years before The Fellowship and had landed in The Hobbit. "Say wha'"?

~oooOOOooo~

**For those of you having a hard time imagining what Aranel looked like, I always pictured him as a mixture of Adam Croasdell and Colin O'Donoghue. **


	3. Chapter 3: An Evening to Remember

**Hello again everyone! **So, I have decided that I will update two to three times a week. Whenever I find free time. When I went back to edit out grammar and spelling errors from the last two chapters, I also added a few small details but nothing so important that you should go back and reread the story. Unless you want too. If you would like, you can go to my page to see the pictures I have uploaded of my cousins Cheyanne and Shane - yes, they agreed to let me use them. Shweet. To answer a question one of my reviewers asked, about Cheyanne and Shane no longer being in the story, all I can say is that what makes you think they're not going to be in it later on? Insert winky face here. And if any of you were wondering if I would wait to upload the rest of the story as the remaining movies come out, I'm not quite sure what I want to do because I want to continue with the story but the characters are following the movie plot and not the book - though it's pretty much the same thing. What do you think I should do?

Anyway, Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter because I personally don't think it's that great but figured I should write it out instead of jumping to an acquaintanceship with the Dwarves all willy-nilly. For the last bit of the chapter I hope it doesn't come off Mary Sue-ish, like I said before I'm trying to steer away from that but, I guess, slip ups happen. The reasoning behind them getting drunk so quickly is I've decided to make Elven wine one of the strong liquors in Middle-Earth (I don't know if it actually is, but would like to visit sometime to find out).

**Announcement:**

There are lines within the story that have been taken from other movies, t.v. shows, songs, etc etc. If you can find them, post a comment with the line and where it is from.

**Disclaimer:**

I own nothing except my characters: Jessica, Cheyanne, Shane, Aranel, and Aredhel.

(In my mind Aredhel looks like Nataliya Milkova with blonde hair.)

**Chapter Three: An Evening to Remember**

After the short exchange between the Dwarves, plus one Hobbit, and I, we stood around in silence. Awkward. Eventually the patio became busy with Elven men and women moving chairs, tables, and setting dinnerware; we stayed out of their way as much as we could, all the while keeping space between us as well.

Sighing, I began to tug on my clothes; they were dirty from the ride here and having been slept in, not to mention the fact that they made me stick out like a sore thumb. My pack was filled with clothes like this, t-shirts with some logo or another, and short pants – aside from my bloodstained overalls. The lack of acceptable clothing was of little importance compared to the fact that I was to start my period within the next few days, and had no tampons or pads.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. That was just what I needed to add onto the growing list of 'I'm Majorly Screwed'.

"Lady Jessica?" A blonde Elven lady, what were they called? Ellies…Elvenlass…Whatever, it didn't matter. She had approached me quietly, full pouty lips forming a cheery smile.

"Yes?" I asked, feeling even more grubby compared to her glowing beauty, and flattering dress of dove grey.

"I am Aredhel; my Lord Elrond requested that I assist you. Dinner will be served in a few minutes," she replied, dark eyes taking in my bed ragged appearance. "Would you care to freshen up before?"

Nodding eagerly, I grabbed my gym bag from the pillar I had lent my belongings against. "Heck yes I would."

Again she smiled, revealing even white teeth. "Follow me," Aredhel instructed, leading me away from the gathering of men that watched our retreating forms.

We didn't walk far and we didn't say much, but it was not an awkward silence as it had been with the others. "Lord Elrond thought it best that you were allowed to clean up in private," again she smiled looking over her shoulder at me, honeyed locks of hair swaying as she walked. Pausing at a doorway, she gestured for me to go inside, "I will remain outside if you require anything."

"Thank you," I whispered, quickly entering the room. Unfortunately there was no bathtub or shower, but there was a basin of water with a rag lying beside it. I'm sure that freshen up meant that I would wash my face and hands for dinner, but I quickly stripped my clothes and took advantage of the clean water to quickly wash first my face then the rest of my body. Noting the developing bruises on my shoulder and back, from the fall and being pressed up against Aranels' armor; I poked them experimentally. Not my one of my brightest moments because, as I hissed in pain, the door opened to reveal a concerned looking Elf maid.

"Are you okay?" Aredhel inquired, completely ignoring my nudity as she entered the room to get a better look at the markings. "How did you acquire these?"

"Aranel," I sniffed disdainfully, moving to cover myself with my hands. Realizing at the last moment that I had more than just womanly bits to cover, I also had tattoos.

Laughter that sounded like the jingle of Yule bells filled the room, though her eyes filled with sympathy. "Yes, I had heard of my brother's less than polite handling. Would you like a salve for them after dinner?" Aredhel did not mention the tattoos, though her eyes did linger on them curiously.

The idea that my captor had a sister, a nice one, was unbelievable. Shaking my head I awkwardly knelt down to my gym bag, pulling out the first set of clothes I could find. "No, I've had worse." Joining Shane and Cheyanne in one of their play fights was something I would never do again. "I have a question though…I am…Uhh…going to be starting my time of the month soon…"

"Oh! Is this your first cycle?"

Blinking up at her, I sputtered, "w-what? No, of course not. But…could you find something I could use to…uh…you know, keep myself clean?"

"Of course," she answered, moving to the door to once more give me privacy. "Is there anything else?"

Shaking my head I watched her leave before changing into a clean pair of panties and bra, then pulling on the large Bronco's jersey and jean shorts I had taken from my bag. Hopefully no one would notice the tattoo on my chest; that would be an awkward conversation. Though my knee high hunting boots were covered in dirt and horse hair; I pulled those on too, lacing them up tightly. A mirror hung in front of the wash bowl and, taking a moment to stare at my reflection, I noted how much the short stay in Middle-Earth had already begun to etch its way onto my face.

Was it only yesterday that I was telling Mischief I'd see him in a few days? When I had been tanning with my cousin, and singing in my Jeep? The girl in the mirror, though sharing my light brown eyes and long dark hair, was far from the person that was brimming with happiness only a day ago. She had been replaced by someone who looked harassed, unhappy.

"What is that?" A feminine voice cried, startling me from my dark thoughts.

"What is what?"

Arching a brow, Aredhel looked pointedly at my clothes. "Surely you have a skirt, pants at least?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "none that are clean." Looking down at my shorts, which I figured to be the main problem, I tugged on their fraying edges.

Clicking her tongue disapprovingly, she held out a small bundle. "Here are a few items that will take care of your monthly cycle. I will show you how to use them but we must hurry, dinner is being brought out."

The Elves way of dealing with periods was, thankfully, as discreet as it was back home. With the bundle tucked into my gym bag, I followed her back to the courtyard. Our return to the now turned dining area was met with silence, but I held my head high and followed Aredhel as she led me toward the high table, seating me beside Gandalf.

"By the Valar," he exclaimed, taking in my cloths, "where are you from that would allow such clothing to be acceptable?"

Gods, it was like hanging out with Shane. "Gee Dad, calm down," I retorted as I took my seat and snagged an apple from one of the dishes sat at the center of the table.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Gandalf returned his attention to Lord Elrond whom was seated at the head of the table and studying a large sword. "This is Orcrist, the Goblin-Cleaver, a famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin, may it serve you well." He handed the long curved blade to Thorin and, with a short but polite nod, he accepted it. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin."

Realizing that they were talking about the swords that they had found in a Troll Cave, I ignored their continued conversation, looking around for a serving of meat but finding none.

"Hey," I exclaimed, looking around the table and down to where the other Dwarves where dining. "Don't you people eat meat?"

A fierce looking Dwarf from the lower table looked up at me appraisingly, "I second that."

Taken aback by his agreeing with my question, I felt a sudden rush of camaraderie that was probably misplaced. Tilting my head questioningly at the Dwarf, I once more turned my attention to Elrond whom had cleared his throat, "we do not eat meat."

But you have guests here that do…His statement left little room for argument however and, because they guy was intimidating when he wanted to be, I let the matter drop. With my belly gurgling in complaint that it wasn't getting anything filling, I snagged a roll of bread and munched on it in silence.

Thorin gave me an odd look but, like me, he picked at his food and mostly ate the bread that was served. Gandalf didn't seem to mind the lack of protein, eating his salad without complaint. Of course he wouldn't complain, he was probably used to the Elves vegetarian diet.

"Jessica," Lord Elrond called from the head of the table. "I hope that you will join Gandalf and I tomorrow morning, we have much to discuss."

Unable to reject the blatantly obvious command, I nodded but did not meet the Elven Lord's eyes. That did not mean however, that my mouth had caught up with my thoughts. "You could just ask me now," I snapped, tossing the half eaten bread roll onto my plate. This was why I couldn't work in Costumer Service; my mouth had a mind of its own.

"That would not be appropriate," he replied, taking a sip from his wine glass.

It didn't matter if he asked me now or later, I couldn't very well tell him that I'm from a place that doesn't exist here and that I know their future. Having already decided to not tell them about my 'fortune telling power', I really didn't want to deal with that drama, but willing to be completely honest with them otherwise; I propped my elbows onto the table and leaned forward. "Appropriate or not, I have nothing to say that I haven't already told you."

Gandalf turned in his chair to fully face me, his penetrating grey eyes roving over my face. "Tell us then, where are you from?"

Giving the wizard a dark look, Lord Elrond lent back into his chair seemingly resigned to let Gandalf question me now instead of later. Thorin arched a brow at the exchange, but pretended to ignore us though he appeared just as interested.

"Someplace you have never heard of," I replied meeting the eyes of all three of the men.

"That is helpful," Thorin commented dryly.

Shrugging in response, I continued, "I was with my two cousins, Shane and Cheyanne, and we were camping on my Uncle's ranch. Shane had gotten sick and Cheyanne took him back to my Uncle's house, leaving me behind to take care of everything. When I went to bed everything was normal, but when I woke up…I was here."

The silence that followed was answer enough, they didn't believe me. "I'm telling you the truth, I promise!"

Lord Elrond grumbled, a dark shadow passing his face, "man's promises are easily broken."

Spreading my arms wide to display my clothing, I asked, "isn't this proof enough? Have you seen clothes like this before, or weapons? By the Gods, if my clothing isn't proof enough then how about how I talk? I highly doubt you have people walking around saying crap like 'Son of a Frost Giant' and 'asshat'."

"Calm yourself," Gandalf grumbled shaking his mane of grey hair, "it is true that your mannerisms and possessions are odd."

Smiling triumphantly, I nodded my head in acknowledgement of what he had said. "Exactly."

"Be that as it may," Lord Elrond replied condescendingly, "you will join us in the morning. Until then, I am appointing you a guard and a room here -" he continued despite my squawk of protest "- where you will stay until we decide what to do with you."

~oooOOOooo~

Elrond was out of his mind. Once the dinner was over, I had been introduced to my guard and, for a long while, I thought about knocking myself out to see if I would wake up at home or remain here in this nightmare.

"Lord Elrond saw it as a fit punishment for how I treated you." Aranel grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against my prisons doorframe in a surprising show of childlike angst.

Snorting at him, I set my belongings in a corner of the room I had been assigned. "Punishment for who?"

Aranel said nothing but shot me a glare, his dark eyes narrowing to the point where they were slits.

"Yeah, keep making that face bro, it'll stay that way." Sticking my tongue out at him, I began to unpack my hookah.

"What was that, on your tongue?" He inquired, appearing at my side without as much as a swish of feet against stone to indicate he had moved. Aranel had seen my tongue piercing.

Jumping sideways in alarm, I squeaked a protest at his close proximity. "Jeez, have you ever heard of a space bubble?" Ignoring his question, I edged around him and continued to set up the main part of the hookah, but left the smaller pieces inside the bag until I had reached the open air of the terrace. Catching something on fire in the small confines of my room did not, in any way, sound appealing.

Pausing for a moment, I reached into my gym bag and brought out my bottle of Rum and left over sweets, stuffing them into my hookah bag. I needed to feel normal, if only for a moment; so, with what I considered to be necessities, I lifted my chin haughtily as I passed Aranel. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go smoke."

As I strode toward the terrace, with Aranel following closely, I wondered if there was any possible way to shake him. The damn Elf was too serious and neither of us wanted to be around each other. He was an Elf however, and I knew that if I did manage to get away from him for even a second he would use his weird super hearing and find me. Stupid hypersensitive Elves.

Nearing the patio I noticed the light of a fire and realized that the Dwarves had set up a little camp there. Frustrated with myself for having forgotten this, though it had been a long time since I had seen the movie and reread the book; I tried to nonchalantly edge around their large group to a more secluded spot. But with my current track record of plans going to poop, I should have known that they'd have noticed me.

"Oi!" Called one of the younger Dwarves, the one with no beard and long dark hair - Kili. "What is that?" His question was quickly followed by the sound of wood snapping and a loud thump.

Aranel gasped, rushing toward the group and pointing at them accusingly. "That is mahogany!"

But his statement was drowned out with laughter; the larger member of their group had broken a table. "Don't you mean 'was' mahogany," one of them called out, voice carrying a Scottish accent. Snorting back a laugh, I watched as Aranel's face darkened. Catching the eye of the same Dwarf that had just spoken, I pressed a finger to my lips in a 'shush' motion and started to back away from my less than wanted guard.

"Stop right there!" Aranel had pointed his finger at me but remained facing the Dwarves with a scowl on his face.

Looking around as if to see who he was talking to, I arched a brow and pointed to myself. "Me?"

The group snickered as Aranel shot me a severe look; shrugging as if I had no idea what he was talking about, I set my supplies on the ground and pulled up a chair that had been moved against a wall.

I was soon joined by Kili and his blonde companion, and brother, Fili. "What is this?" His accent was light, similar to an Irish accent unlike several of the older Dwarves whom carried thicker Scottish sounding brogues. The inquisitive Dwarf stretched out a large calloused finger to poke at the stem of my hookah.

Humming in response, I smiled at the cute expression on his face. "I will show you, if you bring me a pitcher of water." Thankfully I didn't stutter like an idiot when speaking to him, a real accomplishment considering I had trouble talking to men – or in this case, an attractive Dwarf.

Tilting his head inquisitively, Kili walked back to the group in search of the required liquid. While he was gone, his brother arched a quizzical brow, "what is the water for?"

Removing the stem from the green glass bowl, I showed it to him. "The water goes in here," I told him, taking the jug of water from Kili when he reappeared. "You fill it up about half way and…" Moving quickly to once more attach the stem and two hoses, I reached into my bag to pull out the remaining parts I would need. The two of them jumped back as I used my lighter to ignite the coals, waiting for them to glow red before placing them onto the bowl.

"What was that device, the one that produced fire?" Fili leaned forward, snatching the lighter from my lap. Two of the other Dwarves came forward, Ori and Dwalin; having watched me set up the hookah, and bent over their companion as he fiddled with the lighter.

Hookah hose in my mouth, I mumbled, "that is a lighter, it has gas in it and a tiny flint sort of thing that makes the fire." Now that the hookah was producing smoke, I handed the second hose to Kili who looked at it in confusion. "This is a hookah, something you smoke out of. Wait!"

Kili, having mimicked my action of putting the hose tip into my mouth, had taken a long draw of the smoke and began to cough. "You're not supposed to breathe it in," I had to refrain myself from calling him stupid, "you hold the smoke in your mouth and then let it out."

The other three Dwarves smirked, and watched as Kili once more placed the hose tip onto his lips. If they had been waiting for him to choke again, they were sorely disappointed as the younger Dwarf blew out a large cloud of smoke. "What a strange flavor," he remarked, taking another draw off the hookah.

I hummed in response, checking the small bag of shisha I had pulled out. "This is Apple Cinnamon, a little strong but oh well." When Kili took a break from smoking, I took a turn.

The four Dwarves laughed as I tried, and failed, to make smoke rings. "Damn, I can never get those right."

Aranel, using his Elven stealth, appeared at my side. "This 'hookah' is a bit gaudy and large."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored him and watched as each of the Dwarves took a turn. Ori had coughed a bit but there were no other mishaps. "Take turns smoking, otherwise you'll use up all the smoke and the next person won't have any."

Picking up the abandoned lighter from the ground, I lit another coal to set onto the bowl. Smiling contentedly as I watched the remainder of the Dwarves, minus Thorin, Balin, and the Hobbit Bilbo, took turns with the two hoses. Smoking had always calmed me, therefore making it easier to converse with them as they gathered around to smoke.

"An interesting piece," Dwalin said after passing the hose to Bifur, the Dwarf with the axe in his head. "But much too bulky to carry around, I much prefer a pipe." His speech was coarse and he tended to roll his "R's".

Shrugging, I took the offered hose from Nori. "I have never smoked from a pipe."

"Ah," cried the Dwarf with the endearingly floppy hat, Bofur. "If you would like, I could fetch my pipe and let you try it? I am Bofur, by the way."

The rest of the group introduced themselves, aside from Bifur whom Bombur introduced. I felt like a peeping tom, having already known their names though they hadn't given them. "Nice to meet ya," I replied with a bashful smile, "I am Jessica."

Ori tilted his head, the high tenor of his voice questioning. "I thought you said your name was Loki?"

Oh boy, I thought to myself having actually face palmed. "Er…yes, about earlier…My real name is Jessica, sorry about the whole Loki thing."

Fili and Kili exchanged smirks, what about I'm not sure but my face heated considerably. "It is fine," Kili said with a suggestive wink, "we are used to making women forget their names."

Yeah, if they were going to be like this the entire night I was going to need some liquid courage because, no matter how chill a good smoke made me, I was not prepared for shameless flirting. Taking the bottle of Passion Fruit Rum from my bag, I opened it and gave a jaunty cheer of, "bottoms up," before chugging several shots from the bottle.

~oooOOOooo~

Drinking while surrounded by men I had barely knew, facts from the book and movie aside, was hardly a good idea. Especially when they had started to drink the Elven wine that our hosts had graciously supplied them with. But, hell, I had been full of 'bright' ideas the whole day, why not another?

"I say Watson," I declared with Bofur's pipe in hand, "what an evening this has turned out to be." The pipe was no longer lit, since I had had a coughing fit earlier while experimenting with it, but was excellent prop.

Aranel had long since retreated to a far corner of the room, having had enough of the group's antics. "You there!" I stumbled toward him, keenly aware of the eyes of many of the Dwarves on my back. "Why are you being such a party pooper?"

Blinking slowly at me Aranel frowned; jeez, did the guy know any other expression? "Pardon?"

"Ya know a party pooper…" I giggled as his frown deepened, "a Debby Downer, a stick in the mud!"

The Dwarves laughed behind me, and I noticed the tips of Aranel's ears had begun to turn red. Taking that as my queue to move away from him, I detached myself from the wall I had been using for support and lurched back towards the group. "He is no fun," I stage whispered into Dwalin's ear, almost toppling over him as I lost my balance. "I'm fine. I'm cool. Not drunk at all."

One of the effects of drinking was that I paid little to no attention to personal boundaries, another was that I turned into a shameless flirt. Not that I was flirting with Dwalin, even in a drunk state the man was intimidating, but I could not say the same for Fili and Kili, even Bofur had become prey. Damn that adorable hat of his.

Dwalin roughly patted my shoulder and laughed as I sat beside him, "of course you're not drunk. Another drink for the lass!"

A glass of Elven wine was pushed into my hands, the first of the evening since the Rum had run out. The Rum was gone…Why is the Rum always gone? Taking a gulp of the strawberry flavored wine, I turned to Dwalin with a goofy smile. "I like your tattoos, they're so cool. Do they mean anything? How many do you have? I have some too!" I pulled down my shirt to show him my chest piece, unabashed at the show of cleavage. But he was a gentleman and only looked at the ink.

"An interesting piece; my tattoos are Clan markings, they show that I am a decorated and fierce warrior!" He yelled the last two words, and a cheer went up through the group.

"Do you have any other tattoos?" Inquired a tipsy Fili, shifting his blue-silver eyes from his brother, who was trying to smoke from the dead hookah. Kili had drunk a lot. And here I thought that a Dwarf was supposed to have a high tolerance to liquor. Of course, once you started counting the empty jugs of wine that littered the ground, and the fact that Elven wine was really strong…

Winking saucily at the handsome Dwarf, I lifted my Bronco's jersey to show him the Yggdrasil tattoo that took up the whole of my left side. "It is the Tree of the World!"

He laughed and moved closer to me, peering intently at the ink. "The fire light is too dim to see it clearly, but I can tell it was done by a master."

Letting the fabric drop, I started at the brush of course fingers along my ribs; Fili had caught the edge of my jersey and was holding it up so he could continue to look at the ink. "Whoa now," I chided him brushing his hand away, "what would your uncle say if he saw you holding up a girls shirt?"

Face flushed in drunkenness, Fili smiled sheepishly and shifted so that his torso was directed toward me. For a moment I was lost in a drunken haze as I took in his broad shoulders and mischievously sparkling blue-silver eyes, who cares if he only came up to my chest; mentally shaking myself from such thoughts, I took another sip of wine.

"Is it so obvious that Thorin is my uncle?"

Shaking my head, which served no purpose than to make me dizzy, I smiled secretively at him. "Nope, I just knew he was," I tapped the side of my head with a finger.

If I had been paying attention I'd have noticed that Dwalin had begun to eavesdrop onto our conversation, but if you add the light headedness from smoking with liquor you become pretty oblivious to such things.

Fili arched a golden brow, tilting his head as I leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I have dreamt of you," it came out sounding huskier than I had intended, and I quickly drew back from him so he would not get the wrong impression.

He visibly shivered and, as he turned to look at me, I noticed that his pupils had dilated to where you could see only a sliver of blue. Yep, he had definitely got the wrong idea. "What happened, in this dream?"

Rolling my eyes, I lightly tapped his cheek to bring him back to himself. "Not that kind of dream," I told him watching as he eyes returned to normal, and his cheeks flamed red. I laughed softly at this, reaching up to lightly tug on a lock of braided hair, "You're too cute."

Could I tell him more? Sure, I may have been flirting a bit when I had said that I had dreamt of him but that was, for the most part, the alcohol talking. The meaning behind the words was more important, and he obviously hadn't understood that what I was trying to say was that I didn't just know him but I _knew _things that I shouldn't_. _Whatever, it made sense in my drunken state.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a dark voice filled the terrace. "What is going on here?" Demanded Thorin stepping within range of the fire light, followed closely by Balin and Bilbo.

Silence fell over the group as Mr. Tall – er, Short? - Dark and Handsomes' silver-blue orbs scanned each face, narrowing slightly when he saw the little space between Fili and I. As the hush continued to stretch, I contemplated bringing out the remaining Oreos and offering him one. Honestly, who could say no to a cookie?

But as I was reaching for my bag, Aranel appeared at my side. Well, more like he stood above me, but whatever. "Jessica, I believe it is time for you to say goodnight."

He was right of course, and, as I reluctantly gathered my things, I looked to Fili's lowered face; our eyes briefly met and I gave him a look that clearly said to keep his mouth shut about the whole 'dreamt of you' ordeal. It was a mistake to say, even hint, anything anyway.

Aranel gingerly picked up my hookah, seeing as how I was still tipsy, and picked up my bag. Giving me a look that said he was not happy, I rolled my eyes and mumbled a goodnight to the group before leaving them behind.


	4. Chapter 4: I'm Going Where?

**Hello again!** Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying the story so far, I'm glad to know that some of you have stuck with it even though nothing significant has happened yet. Though, I guess in this chapter, something has. As it is I have worked on this chapter for the last few days, writing four different scenes where Jessica is told she will be joining Thorin and the rest of the company, and right now my brain hurts because I know it has come out Mary Sue-ish but I have no one to bounce ideas off of. Damn me for not having any friends that would be suitable betas! Bleh, anyway, I needed to post this Chapter to just get it out of the way and to put as much distance between myself and it; though I will correct the grammar and spelling mistakes along the way, don't worry. If there are any questions feel free to ask in either a comment or a PM.

One of my reviewers asked if I was going to add a romantic plot line, and I can honestly say that I am tempted to do so. I think that Jessica will share bonding moments with many of the love interest characters and, at the ultimate ending (when all the movies are done), there will be several different endings for those of you who want a Fili, Kili, Thorin, or Aranel love scene, and just for the hell of out I will also write an ending where she doesn't pair with anyone but remains friends with the remainder of the group after the huge battle at the end of the book. I'm going to be honest and say I have already planned out Fili's romantic ending.

Oh, and for the one person who PMed me saying I was going to hell for saying 'Gods' instead of 'God', calm yourself, you're gonna have a stroke if you freak out like that every time someone does something you don't agree with. Sheesh.

Anyway, I hope you can make yourself read this chapter. Enjoy it if you can.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except Jessica, Shane, Cheyanne, Aranel, Aredhel, and my bow, clothes, hookah, oreos, and nutella.

**I don't think I added any lines from songs, movies, etc, in this chapter but if you see anything feel free to posted it. My head hurts too much to reread it again tonight.**

**Chapter Four: I'm Going Where?**

"Wake up!"

Screaming in alarm, I threw my pillow at the loud voice that dared wake me. What jerk would wake someone up by screaming after a night of drinking? Peering blurry eyed around the still dark room - wait, it's still dark? "Go away, it's too early," I grumbled, snuggling further into my blankets.

A snort sounded from the side of the bed, "wake up, now."

Peeking out from beneath the blankets, I came eye to torso with Aranel. Groaning, I rubbed my temples in an attempt to subside the slight pounding of a hangover. "What do you want?"

"Lord Elrond and Gandalf are waiting for you."

That rung a dull and annoying little bell, something about a meeting...Looking up at Aranel's smirking face, I contemplated throwing the pipe that was lying on the bed. How did a pipe get into my bed? Sighing, I waved wearily at him. "I'm up…"

"Hungover?" He asked with a smile spreading across his face.

Glaring at him I swung my legs out of bed and slowly crawled out from under the blankets warmth. "Can you...ya know...Get out?"

Watching him leave the room, slamming the door behind him, I continued to glare after Aranel for several moments before looking once more at the pipe that I still held in my hands. It was probably from last night, not that I remembered a lot of it. Something involving Sherlock Holmes…

Shrugging, I took a deep breath to settle my whirling thoughts and searched through my bag for clean clothes. Pulling out another pair of jean shorts and a band t-shirt, Escape the Fate, I quickly changed and, noticing a bowl of water had been placed in the room, washed my face. Once more picking up the pipe I had left on the bed I tucked it into my bag, knowing that I'd figure out who it belonged to later.

Reluctantly joining Aranel in the hall, I followed him to where Elrond and Gandalf waited for me. They were both wide awake and said a cheery good morning; how the hell could someone be that happy at this time of morning? Sure I may have got up earlier to go hunting with Shane, but the only thing that got me through that was knowing that I may kill something. Obviously, I was not a morning person.

Where was the coffee? How dare they wake someone up at this time of morning without coffee. What if don't have coffee, as in it doesn't exist here? Oh no…Don't be silly, there was coffee in the movies…I think…Oh, oh no…

Letting them take the lead, I half listened to their conversation as we began to walk up a set of stairs to an open, circular room with a large stone table set in the middle of it. A memory fought its way through my headache and I gasped, not wanting to be anywhere near the two people in Middle-Earth that would soon appear. Already I could see the outline of Galadriel, the mind reader, and my eyes darted around frantically in search of Saruman.

Oh no, this is bad, I thought to myself once Galadriel turned and exchanged words with Gandalf. No, no, no, no!

"She didn't," said the familiar voice of Saruman, having appeared from his shadowy hiding place beside a pillar. "I did." Tolkien had described Saruman as having an enchanting voice that made him sound wise and reasonable and, I guess, to a certain extent it was. Perhaps it was because I knew what he was but to me his voice sounded oily and sly, glossing over the skin like animal fat.

Mirroring the grimace that passed Gandalf's face before he turned to greet the white wizard; I started to edge back down the stairs and away from the two newcomers. I didn't know who to be more afraid of the mind reading Elf or the evil Wizard, they were both people I needed, and wanted, to avoid.

"And who is this?" Inquired Saruman, his dark eyes sparkled and white-black brows rose as he took in my abnormal, to them anyway, appearance.

Gandalf, by the way his eyes flicked toward my retreating form, did not appear to want to introduce me to Saruman but none the less did so when Galadriel gave an encouraging smile. "This is Jessica; she was found traveling through the Valley."

Holy tits, how many times did I have to tell him I wasn't traveling through their damn valley?! Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed loudly; it was too damn early for this 'B' rated TV drama.

_Jessica, _called a feminine voice from within my head, _how did you come to be in the valley?_

Flinching back from the invisible voice, I quickly tried to shut Galadriel out but, having no experience with this sort of shenanigans, the 'wall' was splotchy at best. _Get out of my head!_

While my face had become strained with the effort of blocking her and the unfamiliar feeling of someone invading my thoughts, while having a hangover of all things. Galadriel's expression remained cool and, for all pretenses, appeared to be paying attention to the conversation the men were having.

_I would usually respect one's mind as their only sanctuary, but alas you are a conundrum. _Tilting her golden head, Galadriel began to gracefully circle the men and closer to me. As she neared, my eyes widened and my heart began to palpitate like a rabbit thumping the ground to signal danger. The other men had noticed her advance and fell silent as our mental conversation, or interrogation, continued. _Show me._

Whimpering as she tore down the fragile wall to view my recollections, I watched as the scenes of the previous day skipped through my mind. When Galadriel found the memories involving the four-wheelers, my jeep, and other electronic devices, she paused and played through them again. Repeatedly she played through these, going even further back into my memories so that she could see the countries, histories, video games, and movies, until she came upon…

_"NO!" _I screamed it both mentally and physically, stumbling back and falling onto the stone flooring. Great, more bruises to add to the collection. The group recoiled at the sudden noise, each taking aggressive stances. "You can't go there, you can't!" Slamming a stronger wall between our minds, I eyed the four of them distrustfully feeling completely violated by her search.

Cerulean orbs narrowed as Galadriel mentally shoved at the barrier, creating a crack in the barricade and making my headache worse.

_ Please, _I pleaded adding barbed wire to the wall. _Don't go any further! _But my pleading was ignored as she broke down the barricade and saw the Dwarves leaving Rivendell, Thranduil riding a moose and turning his back on the destroyed Erebor, a group of three hunting down a company of Uruk-hai, and the stone wall of Helms Deep being blown to pieces.

Fortunately she was too stunned by these visions to notice as I slammed my mind shut once more, all I could pick up was a solid '!' from her mind. Galadriel had not seen the reason behind my knowledge of their past, present, and future; nor did she see why a man, Elf, and Dwarf were together. The secret of the Ring was safe, for the moment.

_You bear the gift of foresight, _she said in astonishment, and though Galadriel spoke within my mind she respectfully acknowledged the block and did not try to cross it. _How did you acquire this gift?_

"Umm…" I gave her a dubious look, eyeing the Elf from the hem of her dress to the top of her head. "Magic?" Why wasn't she trying to force her way in anymore?

Gandalf's eyes closed and a defeated sigh passed his lips, shaking his shaggy grey hair. The Elven lord cast his gaze skyward, large forehead creasing; if I didn't know any better I'd say that they both wanted to Gibbs' Smack me.

"Magic?" Rumbled Saruman as his lips pressed into a thin line, his long beard bobbing against his chest. "Surely you are not suggesting that you can use magic?"

My eyes widened as Galadriel's lips began to spread to answer the wizards' question. _No! _I yelled at her, _don't say anything to them._

Galadriel paused, peering at me from out of the corner of her eye. _They are directly involved in your visions?_

I was shocked by how quickly she had caught on but, then again, she was an Elf. Another surprise was that she was not drilling me as to how I knew all of this crap. _Yes they are…And so are you, _I added hesitantly. _Lady Galadriel, I'm sorry but I can't tell you anything about it. I don't know how to assure you that I am not evil, or whatever, but I'm not; please don't try to read my mind again._

The last bit came out sounding more like a challenge but I was sick of being the weak little girl that was letting this happen, albeit reluctantly. Galadriel inclined her head in a subtle nod and merely smiled at the men, speaking in her lyrical voice, "Jessica will be joining the Dwarves on their journey to Erebor."

"I-bu-what?!" Blinking owlishly up at the Elf, my mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Where the eff had that come from? Couldn't she see that all I wanted was to go home? That I didn't belong here?

_Calm your thoughts Lady Jessica, you are broadcasting too loudly. _Galadriel lifted her pointed chin with a determined air;_ surely you can see the reason why you were brought here, from the dead land of your upbringing to Middle-Earth. Especially with your gift of foresight._

Whoa now, I was momentarily offended by her comment, Nebraska wasn't a 'dead land'. Oh shit, she thought that my random as hell appearance here was because I was supposed to go with Thorin? By the Gods, what if I had been brought here for that reason and I can never go home? I could die, there was a dragon involved for Gods sakes! Maybe that was the reason Galadriel wanted me to go with the Dwarves, because she wanted me dead. Gods, kill me yourself lady because being roasted alive or torn apart by Orcs, Warg's, Goblin's and Spiders, was not how I wanted to end my life. Sheesh.

And yet, I was intrigued by the idea of an adventure; shivers ran through my body and it became hard to breathe. Lines from the movie, more like a small speech, played through my mind; Bilbo had just taken off the Ring and, after having listened to Thorin badmouth him, told the Dwarves, "I know you doubt me and I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books and my armchair and my garden. You see, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, because you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."

_You have more in common with the Dwarves than you think, _whispered Galadriel's voice when she picked up on my train of thought. Giving the mental version of a sigh, as I quickly hid my thoughts behind the flimsy excuse of a wall, she once more addressed the small gathering. "She is human, Saruman, and cannot use magic."

"My Lady," Gandalf respectfully lowered his head to her but kept his unwavering gaze on me. "She cannot join Thorin's company, he would not permit it."

Raising a hand, I nodded vigorously in agreement. "What the wizard said and, I have to add, that I don't like the idea of walking that far or being burnt to a crisp by a dragon." The group, aside from Saruman, huffed amusedly upon hearing the excuse of having to walk. Dude, I wasn't trying to be funny I could be extremely lazy when I wanted. _Lady Galadriel, I really don't think it would be a good idea for me to go with Thorin. _Though I ceased speaking mentally to her, I knew that she could feel the stark fear and uneasiness in her suggestion of joining the dwarrow and Hobbit.

"Mithrandir," Galadriel continued as if I hadn't spoken, "I believe that, with your aid, Thorin will concede in letting Jessica join in his quest however grudgingly." Sharing a look with the wizard, she broadcasted her thoughts towards myself and Gandalf; _they have much to learn from one another._

_Can she be trusted? _He asked, probably thinking about the Morgul blade that he had stored within his robes.

Feeling insulted by the question that echoed through the three-way conversation, I thought about mentioning that I was not the one they should be worried about. Cough, Saruman, cough. But I kept my thoughts to myself; they wouldn't believe that Saruman was evil anyway and Gandalf was right in questioning my integrity.

_I have examined her mind, and believe her to be trustworthy._ Galadriel broadcasted this to the whole group, not just Gandalf and I.

Sharing a scrutinizing look with the wizard, he gave a subtle nod while I pouted, crossing my arms from my position on the floor. This was so not cool.

Lord Elrond had finally taken it upon himself to speak, "if you deem her honorable, then I believe you."

Looking deep in thought, with white-black brows meeting upon his forehead, Saruman gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Then it is settled. The girl," his dark orbs sought mine, "will join the Dwarves." If I had not known any better, I'd have thought that he could read my thoughts by the way his eyes narrowed, a mockery of a smile playing across his face.

I shivered and looked away from his challenging black eyes, and quickly stood so that our heights were more evened out. Only a submissive person would keep themselves lowered when challenged, and while I was frightened by the situation I had found myself in, and to a lesser degree I was afraid of Saruman, I could not allow the wizard to see this. Keep it together, Jess. With the impending doom of having to join Thorin, I watched as Aranel and Aredhel climbed the flight of stairs and bowed their heads demurely. Had Galadriel told them to get me with her weird psychic powers?

"You summoned us, my Lady?" It was Aredhel that spoke, her honeyed locks shifting over her shoulders as she lifted her face to gazing adoringly up at Lady Galadriel.

"I did, with Lord Elrond's permission," she looked toward the dark haired Elven Lord, whom acquiesced with a small nod. "Jessica requires that her weapons be returned to her as well as a travel pack prepared, she will be joining the Dwarves on their quest."

Feeling the sibling's curious eyes upon me, I shifted uncomfortably and turned to follow their retreating forms without so much as a backward glance or a mumbled 'thank you'.

"Do you have acceptable travel clothes?" Inquired Aredhel as we neared my room, pausing in front of the door to talk for a moment. Her brother, Aranel, had left us with a mumbled explanation of getting my bow.

I nodded, mentally making a list of the contents of my gym bag and what I wanted to take with me. "I have a few things that'll work, but I don't have a coat." It had been too hot in Nebraska for a jacket or hoodie, and an actual coat had been out of the question.

Aredhel nodded and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "we do not feel the cold as you do, but I will see what I can find. I suggest that you change quickly and gather what you wish to include on your journey."

Pursing my lips into a thin line, face pinched with annoyance and resignation, I bobbed my head quickly and entered the room. Taking a deep breath, I buried my face in my hands and gave a dry sob. Why did this have to happen to me? Self-pity was something I would have previously given into, had it not been for my family I would have allowed it to drag me down once more. It was a constant battle within oneself, to inspire change and follow through with it.

An unbidden memory emerged from the self-pitying grey of my mind; it was Christmas, or Yule of me, and my cousins Shane and Cheyanne were debating whether to take Edd up on his offer to camp on his ranch or to go to Louisville Lakes. Cheyanne had been for Louisville because, although it was along train tracks, it had a cell phone reception and lake to swim in. While Shane was all for the four hour drive to his dads' place where, and he emphasized this, we would be far away from screaming children, trains, and could go mudding on the four-wheelers. They turned to me to settle the debate and, stupidly I answered, 'let's go to Edd's, it'll be an adventure.'

An adventure indeed, I snorted at the irony of the situation as I sorted through my gym bag to find suitable travel clothing. Settling on layering up with an Under Armor Compression Sports Bra to suitably bind my chest, a tight black cropped long-sleeved dance sweater, and the previously worn Nebraska yoga pants under the camouflage overalls. Though some of the articles were dirty and the dance top belonged to Cheyanne, I must have accidentally stuffed some of her belongings into my bag, they were the only 'proper' clothing I had. I highly doubted that daisy dukes, spaghetti strap shirts, or anything bright would be adequate.

I was lacing up my boots when Aranel entered my room with several bow bags hooked over his shoulder and another bundle tightly gripped with his free hand. Dropping the bag to the ground with a soft clink, he laid the bow carriers on the bed and backed away, pointedly ignoring my annoyed glare. He couldn't have asked me to open the door for him? I could have been naked for crying out loud.

They had taken all the weapons from the campsite, not just my own. Studying Shane's larger, and darker, case, I caressed the material and thought about loosening the bows draw weight to where I could easily use it since his bow had better accessories than my own. But I decided against it, I didn't know his bows quirks like I knew my own. Unzipping my own carrier, I withdrew my bow and enjoyed the familiar weight in my hands before setting it aside and taking out my belt and quivers, securing them tightly at my hips.

Turning to look at Aranel, whom cleared his throat to get my attention, he nodded toward the bundle that he had placed on the floor. Unwrapping the cloth to reveal Shane's hunting knives, I picked out a long blade that had straps to attach to my thigh and a small pocket knife. Calm had begun to settle over me as I picked over my cousins' weapons, taking their arrows to fill my quivers to the brink. My family may not have been there physically, but it felt like they were there in spirit through their belongings. A foolish notion, I know, but it made me feel better.

Aranel shifted his stance, drawing my attention once more to his tall lithe form. The intensity held in his dark, obsidian eyes was daunting as they trailed over my clothes and weapons, lingering on the half covered Yggdrasil tattoo. "You look…"

The Elf's voice trailed off, cocking my head to the side I opened my mouth to ask him what I looked like but someone knocked on the door. "Come in."

Aredhel entered the room, a pack with a bedroll in hand as well as a dark grey cloak. "I couldn't find you a coat but…" her dark eyes darted over my belongings, and she nodded at what she saw. "You appear well prepared for your journey, are you sure that you were merely 'camping' in the Valley?" Shaking her blonde head, Aredhel continued without waiting for an answer, "as I was saying, I could not find you a coat but I have brought you a cloak."

"Thank you," I said to her, reaching out for the cloth only to be surprised when Aranel took it from his sister and set it over my shoulders himself. The cloak was of thick material but felt light as a snowflake upon my shoulders.

The two of us, Aredhel and I, watched silently as Aranel did this, exchanging looks that ranged from startled, on my end, to surprise and something else on hers. Only when her brother had stepped away did she hand over the pack she had been carrying. "I took the liberty to supply you with many loaves of lembas bread for your journey, as well as a pair of gloves and a waterskin. There remains enough room for whatever else you wish to pack."

Nodding at her I set about packing my remaining Oreos and Nutella, the bundle of feminine products Aredhel had given me the other day, and the pipe I had found that morning. Attaching my bow securely to a special loop on my belt and once more putting on my Release, I closed the pack and swung it over my shoulder.

"My things...Will they be okay here?" I whispered this, gesturing with my Release bedecked hand towards the remaining bags. Though I appeared calm I knew that if I dared speak louder, I would drop my supplies and start screaming for them to let me stay.

Aredhel inclined her head, "they will remain here, waiting for your return."

"If," Aranel corrected his sister, "you return." His obsidian eyes landed on mine, thin lips tilted into a familiar frown.

Though Aredhel grimaced at the directness of his statement, I couldn't help but be thankful for his honesty. At least he wasn't beating around the bush. Whether it was from nerves or the fact that I was going nuts on the inside, the mental image of Aranel physically beating a bush came to mind.

Smothering the smirk the threatened to spread across my face, I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head to further hide my expression. No need for them to see me smile after Aranel had said that I may not come back alive; no doubt they'd think that I've gone mad.

But I am crazy; I thought to myself as I followed the siblings from the room, how could I not be crazy? I was in one of Peter Jackson's movies, talking to Tolkien's characters, and about to go on a quest involving treasure, a dragon, and Dwarves! Yep, I officially had a room reserved at a nonexistent Loony House. Well hell, if I ever made it back to Nebraska I'd probably be sent to a padded cell if I ever told anyone about this little trip.

Gods, I can imagine Cheyanne pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her curly blonde head in defeat. Shane would have roughly pinched my cheeks and wriggled them around to make that smacking sound, loudly declaring that it was my tiny brain bouncing around in my skull. Damn, I missed them…

Hysteria threatened to take over when we stopped onto the empty terrace; the Dwarves had already left and were probably picking their way through the mountainous paths. Aredhel turned to me with an apologetic smile, "it would appear that they have already left."

"Obviously," I snorted, slipping both straps of my pack over my shoulders and making sure my quivers and bow were properly attached. "I'll have to catch up," I gave the siblings a mocking smile, though Aredhel didn't deserve it and, I guess, Aranel didn't deserve it at the moment but he wasn't undeserving of it either. The Elf was still an ass.

Aranel's eyes narrowed as he adopted the familiar I'm-better-than-thou attitude, the same damn attitude that almost got him elbowed the day before. The Elf drew closer to me, completely ignoring my space bubble as he whispered into my ear, "how rude." He had said that to me before, and again I felt the urge to hit him but he quickly withdrew as if suspecting my reaction, obsidian orbs twinkling with amusement.

Eyeing her brother with an arched brow, Aredhel pulled a large prettily colored red-pink apple from the sleeve of her dress. "I brought this for you," she said handing the fruit to me, "after observing how you only ate the apples and bread at dinner last night. I hope that it will provide you with the energy needed to overtake the Dwarves."

I smiled at her, feeling stupid for having been mean to her and touched that she had been paying such close attention. But the mood had to be ruined by Aranel, who sniffed almost disdainfully, "if you had truly been paying attention, you'd have noticed that she only ate the green apples."

Both Aredhel and I turned to look at her brother startled, but he had already turned his back on us and was walking away. "Sheesh, and he said I was rude? " Rolling my eyes, I took a large bite of the fruit. It was true what he said about the apples, but it wasn't that big of a deal. "What a drama queen."

A warm but confused smile lightened Aredhel's face, "that is how my brother is." After a moment of silence, filled by the crunch of the apple as I continued to chew, the Elf maid turned to face me. It felt odd then, too look up at her and see the dark eyes of her brother filled with good humor. "I think he likes you."

I choked on my bit of apple, nearly doubling over to clear my throat. Aredhel laughed, the familiar Yule Bell sound tinkling in the air, "you had better leave now, if you hope to catch up with Thorin and the others."

She nudged me toward a long flight of stairs, and I looked up once more to her smiling face knowing that it may be the last time I saw a truly welcoming expression, perhaps even the last time I saw her. Taking her soft crème colored hand from my shoulder; I squeezed it tightly with my tanned one, "thank you, Aredhel…But that is one crazy idea." The guy was way too damn stoic to care about anything other than Rivendell and, maybe, his sister; by the way he had spoken to her I wasn't too sure about that.

She laughed again, gently this time. "Perhaps," Aredhel mumbled, before waving her hands at me, "go, Jessica, or you haven't a hope in the world in catching up!"

Sighing is resignation; I gave her a jaunty little salute and took the stairs two at a time. All the while a little voice in my head was screaming at me to turn back, to hide somewhere for a while before coming back saying that Thorin had turned me away. But my legs were set on a path and, because I had trained myself to ignore the little voice since it usually told me to end my workouts early, they continued moving, following the dusty prints of the Dwarves, and Hobbit, through the cliffs.


	5. Chapter 5: Flash Back

Hey everyone, how are things? It's been pretty busy over here, I've been pulling extra shifts because I bought a new car. Hooray for being broke! Of course my busier schedule will mean that it may take longer to post new chapters, but I hope you will bear with me.

This chapter focuses on Jessica's past and starts to make her faults more apparent. The Dwarrow, and Hobbit, appear but don't play an active role in this filler chapter. If you don't want to read then you can skip this post because she will explain herself later on, I just figured that it'd be nice to have a longer story since the first third of this series will be finished in the next three chapters...Damn you Peter Jackson for spacing out the release dates for the remaining movies!

And now I'm rambling. Anyway, for those of you that don't care for the interactions between Jessica and the others, I will be going back to improve upon them just as soon as this portion of the story is done. I apologize again for the Sue-ness of it all and I hope to rectify it soon.

Dwarrow - The plural of Dwarf (for those of you who didn't know)

**Disclaimer:**

**I own nothing except Jessica, Cheyanne, Shane, Aranel, Aredhel, and Edd.**

**Chapter Five: Flash Back**

**_ Beep…Beep…_**

_ "Guurrr…nuuuh…" Slamming my hand down onto the alarm clock, I rolled over for a few more minutes of sleep before getting ready for my morning class._

_Morning, for me, was a relative term considering I worked either second or third shift, depending on which job had scheduled me. Right now the clock read noon and, believe it or not, that was early for me. Five hours of sleep and I had to get up for a four hour class with a professor that does nothing but lecture the whole time, then I had to move my jolly ass to the gym before heading to work at seven. Thankfully, there were only three remaining classes between me and my Associates Degree in Mythology. Bring it on world, bring it on!_

_Oh no, now that I was thinking about how close I was to getting my Degree there was no way I'd be able to get back to sleep. Grumbling in resignation, I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to start the 'morning' routine, switching on the iLuv stereo to random._

_"And I can't call in sick on Mondays when the weekends been to strong, I just work straight through the holidays, and sometimes all night long." _

_I belted this out while shampooing my hair, the familiar smell of cinnamon and apples wafting on the steam. The shampoo had been bought by my fiancé, a certain Air Force Officer by the name of Elliot O'Connor. He was currently stationed in Afghanistan and wouldn't be back for another two months, just in time for our wedding._

_"Hey, I'm solid, hey I'm steady, hey I'm true down to the core, and I will always do my duty, no matter what the price, I've counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice."_

Stop Jessica, just…stop…Physically shaking myself to dislodge the scent of dwarrow sweat, similar to hops, that had triggered the dust covered memories, I peered out from behind the cliff face I was currently hiding behind. The Dwarves had been climbing a steep incline that led to what appeared to be a wider path, rocks rolled down from where they placed their feet and their grunts of exertion were audible from where I was hiding, some thirty odd yards away. Bilbo stumbled; slipping down the gravelly rock side only to be caught by Bombur whom steadied the Hobbit, the two of them shared a moment of exhausted laughter before continuing.

Bilbo's slip had drawn the attention of those further ahead, making them look back to check on the line. I quickly hid behind the outcropping of rock so they would not see me, reflexively tugging the hood of the grey cloak to further cover my face.

It had been several days since everyone left Rivendell and let's just say that I was too big of a pansy to actually go up to Thorin and say, "Yo, remember me? I'm that girl you saw drinking with your friends the other night. Oh, you remember? What the hell am I doing here? Well…You see…" Because that would go over so very well, totally.

So here I was, staying several yards behind the group and attempting to keep out of sight. Was it too late to turn back? Of course Gandalf would be following them as well, probably thinking I had been accepted into their group because I hadn't turned back right away. So turning back now obviously wasn't in the cards, and who knew what Galadriel had told him.

Why hadn't I put up more of a fight with Galadriel? Was it because I had relapsed into the meek girl that I had fought tooth and nail to be rid of for the last year?

There was that smell again, this time mixed with the static-zing of an impending storm, drifting down from the Dwarrow that had now climbed onto the broader path. When they had moved on several feet, I darted out from my hiding place and quickly climbed the loose gravelly, slipping back several times and scraping the palms of my hands. Maybe now would be the time to put on those gloves Aredhel packed…

Having finally reached the same stony path the others had, I gingerly pulled off the Elven made pack and removed the fingerless leather gloves, quickly slipping them on over my stinging palms.

_Oh my gods, stop calling me! Having to mentally shout at my phone to stop lighting up while in class was distracting, the professor was reviewing Egyptian mythology then moving onto what would be on the class final. I could not take a call right now._

_ The class instructor was walking up and down the table lanes, hands clenched behind his back. "In the Eighteenth Dynasty there was a Pharaoh that worshipped a single god, what was this god's name?"_

_ And my phone lit up again; it wasn't even a Nebraska area code, it was someone from Texas. Not wanting to miss the remainder of the lecture, I hurriedly made my way to the closest exit, phone clenched tightly in my hand in annoyance._

_ "Yeah, I'm in the middle of class so this better be important." Snapping this into the receiver, I waited impatiently for a response. Each second ticking by was a dollar wasted on the class I was now missing._

_ Surprisingly a clinical tone of a woman answered, "Hello, is this Ms. Jessica Keyes?"_

_ "Umm…yeah, who's this?" That tone was never good. Leaning my shoulder against the off-white wall I crossed my free arm over my chest, and nervously wet my lips with the tip my tongue._

_ "Ms. Keyes, I am M.D. Amanda Grant." Her voice remained detached, and the rapid clicking of a keyboard could be heard over the phone. "You are engaged to a Second Lieutenant Elliot O'Connor?"_

_ Oh no, this wasn't the _call _was it? No that's stupid, they don't call people to let them know their spouse or child had died, they actually visit your house. And if it was something serious then I'd be hearing from someone at Offutt or Ehrling Bergquist, not some lady from Texas. Sure I'd be moving to Texas after getting married, because Elliot was stationed there, but I'd still hear all the important stuff from A.F.B. that was closer, right? "Yeah," I replied a little calmer than I felt, "has something happened? Elliot is still coming back in June, right?"_

_ "Ms. Keyes, when was the last time you went in for a physical or got your blood drawn?"_

_ Uhh…that's a weird question. "I went in a few months back, why what's going on?"_

My diploma, having been just barely acquired, was hanging on the wall of my apartment, and was now completely useless. How would knowing that Aten was the god that the Heretic King worshipped, ever going to help me in this hell hole known as Middle-Earth. No offence to Tolkien because the man was a genius, but I was sort of trapped here…

Speaking of useless things; I shifted the straps of the pack and continued following the boot imprinted, with the occasional Hobbit footprint, mud path that the group had left behind. What was I doing? Turn around Jessica, turn around and go back to the Elves…Wait scratch that, screw the Elves I'm staying with Thorin and his group but not really because I was kind of, uh, hiding from them. Yep, I was the epitome of uselessness.

Okay, I needed to either grow a pair and put my 'foresight' into practice or I needed to get the hell out of the mountains and back to Rivendell. I would preferably go home but I knew I would be stuck in Middle-Earth for a while yet. Hell, I couldn't even directly interfere with their quest because something worse than what was already planned could happen. What to do? What. To. Do.? No, the more important question was what the hell were you thinking, Galadriel? 'You have more in common with them' my ass.

The pipe that I had packed was currently poking into my back, and I irritably shifted my pack again. Okay plan made, I will catch up with the group and return the pipe to its owner before turning back. They'd totally buy that as a reasonable explanation as to why I had been following them for the last few days.

Following the narrowing stone path through the mountains, I began to pick up my pace as the first drops of rain started to fall.


End file.
